


Bend Me, Break Me

by eightofcoins



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Ageplay, Attempted dubcon, Consensual, D/s, Edging, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Humiliation, Maledom, Pet name, Post-Game, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-11
Updated: 2012-02-11
Packaged: 2017-10-30 23:25:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/337331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eightofcoins/pseuds/eightofcoins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Naoto breaks her arms while visiting Souji, and they spend an... interesting... week together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt**   
> _Someone breaks a bone outside of the TV. How does it happen? What do they break? How does Souji deal with it? He can't just heal it in the TV now that it's been cast by a doctor, right? Wat do?_
> 
> _And what makes this kinky depends on the injury I guess. Broken arm? Spoon feeding. Anything else? Oral sex. Yeah._
> 
> <http://badx2bathhouse.livejournal.com/543.html?thread=117023#t117023>
> 
> \---
> 
> **Warnings**  
>  Consensual D/s, consensual humiliation, Daddy ageplay, attempted dubcon

It was going to be a fun few weeks.  
  
She had suggested to Souji that she could come up to the city for the first week of summer break to spend some much needed quality time with him, just the two of them. He had responded in the enthusiastic affirmative, with the additional pleasant surprise that his parents would be on an overseas business trip that whole month, so she could skip the hotel and stay at his home.  
  
All the better: There were things she wanted to do to him -- and things she wanted him to do to her -- that would not endear her to his parents, should they be present.  
  
Sure, the rest of the Investigation Team and Nanako-chan would sorely miss the time that could have been spent in Inaba, but they would surely get over it. Inaba’s favorite adopted son was going to spend the rest of the summer with all of them, and most likely the rest of town. But she didn’t want to share him for at least a few days.  
  
So it was very confusing when she awoke in a blindingly white room with all her friends standing around her, worry turning to relief on all their faces.  
  
“Naoto, you idiot! Don’t scare me like that!”  
  
Strong, warm arms wrapped around her waist, and a wet, hot face buried itself against her chest. She wanted to stroke the mop of gray hair that tickled her bare neck, but her arms felt made of lead.  
  
“Souji...”  
  
“Why did you do it, Naoto?”  
  
“Because...” It was embarrassing to say it with all of her friends around, but it was important. “Because I love you.”  
  
\---  
  
Souji and she had been walking from the train station to his home, pleasantly catching up on recent events, when a car came barreling around the corner straight at him.  
  
With practiced ease, she had pushed him out of the way of the mortal blow. A corner of the small sedan, wheels screaming under hard braking, lifted her off her feet. She could hear a jarring _snap!_ as she instinctively threw her arms against the hood and windshield to break the impact, and then everything had gone black and quiet.  
  
\---  
  
“Shirogane-san, what day is it today?”  
  
“Friday, July 27th, 2012.”  
  
“Good, good. When were you born?”  
  
“Thursday, April 27th, 1995.”  
  
“Good. And who is this young man?”  
  
“Souji Seta. My Senp-- My boyfriend.”  
  
“Haha, is that so? I suppose that explains why he hasn’t left your side all this time.” Souji blushed. “Don’t be embarrassed, young man, it’s perfectly understandable!  
  
“Now, Shirogane-san, the scans and tests show that you don’t seem to have any head trauma, though we’d like to keep you over the weekend for observation. As you undoubtedly have noticed, both your arms have been broken. Fortunately, the fractures are of a type that will heal easily and will cause you as little pain as can be expected.  
  
“There is also significant bruising around your hip, which will likely limit your mobility somewhat for a few days. Thankfully, that is the extent of your injuries. I’d say that in six weeks time, those casts can come off.  
  
“In the meantime, do you have anyone to take care of you after we discharge you? We’ve tried to reach your grandfather, but we’ve been told he has business in England for the foreseeable future.”  
  
“I can take care of her, Doctor. She came to visit me in the first place.”  
  
“Ah, I see, Seta-san. Well, if you have no objections, I think you’ll be in good hands, Shirogane-san.”  
  
“Thank you, Doctor. I know I will.”  
  
\---  
  
The weekend went by pleasantly quickly, as pleasantly as a hospital stay could.  
  
Her friends had jumped on the first train from Inaba as soon as they heard the news, and rallied warmly around her, sharing in Souji’s relief as she first awoke. Even Rise had taken time from her already busy schedule to drop in to take care of her. And Grampa had called at the first opportunity, deep concern for his dear only granddaughter plainly evident even over the international call.  
  
Eventually, though, they gave their regretful good-byes as they returned to Inaba, since they couldn’t all crash at Souji’s place forever. Souji had insisted that she would stay with him in the city for at least for a week or so, until she felt well enough to travel back to Inaba, and she couldn’t fault him for that reasoning.  
  
After all, she still wanted to spend some quality time together, just the two of them, broken arms be damned.  
  
#


	2. Day 1

The interior of Souji’s family apartment was sleekly comfortable in a thoughtfully Japanese variation of International Modernism. It was sparsely furnished, but the eclectic pieces were of impeccable taste and the highest quality, as was the art on the walls. Was that a Rothko? He must have noticed the quietly impressed look in her eyes.  
  
“It’s just a reproduction. Dad designed the place.”  
  
“Your father is very talented.”  
  
“Haha, Mother always says, ‘Tell that to those Pritzker idiots.’ Well, let’s get you settled in.”  
  
Though quite large for an apartment in urban Japan, the Seta residence wasn’t enormous. However, Souji’s father had maximized every cubic millimeter of the place, so it felt airy and spacious, yet with every amenity. He had even managed to carve out a small but comfortable guest room, in addition to the master bedroom and Souji’s room.  
  
“I’m afraid you’ll have to sleep on a futon. Dad doesn’t believe in those -- and I quote -- ‘space-wasting Western excuses for sleeping equipment.’ I hope you don’t mind.”  
  
“Of course not, Senpai, I’m very grateful for your hospitality. And I’m sorry that I’m arriving empty-handed.”  
  
“Don’t worry about it, the sweets you brought looked very nice before the car squashed them. And it’s the least I can do, Naoto, really. I mean, it’s not every day your girlfriend saves your life!”  
  
“I recall a certain unpleasant incident a few months ago. And several times before that.”  
  
“Well, it means a lot more when you can’t just pop a Revival Bead or cast Recarm.”  
  
“It _would_ be convenient if those could heal injuries sustained outside of the TV world.”  
  
“Very true, but sadly not. So, what would you like to do now? Eat? Maybe take a nap? Or we could--”  
  
“Um, Senpai. Um. I need to... um. I need to pee.”  
  
“Sure, Naoto. Follow me, the toilet is over here.”  
  
“Thank you. Um... Um, with my condition...”  
  
“Your-- Oh! I suppose you’ll need some help. Um, with your pants.”  
  
“Yes. I don’t mean to be forward, Senpai, but if you could please hurry.”  
  
“Right.” He blushed brightly.  
  
That was silly, there was nothing to be embarrassed about, right? Souji had seen her naked more than once, in much more compromising positions, at that. It wasn’t like there was anything to be surprised by. Looking in the mirror, she saw her face had taken a startlingly strong resemblance to a ripe tomato.  
  
His hands, usually so steady, limply fumbled with her belt buckle.  
  
“Senpai, I don’t mean to rush you, but please hurry!”  
  
“How do I get these things off?”  
  
“Senpai, have you not worn pants _your entire life!?_ Please hurry!”  
  
“Who the hell puts on button-fly jeans when their arms are broken?!”  
  
“The nurses said it was cute! Hurry hurry _hurry!_ ”  
  
“Almost got one... Wait--”  
  
“Senpai, please! I don’t think--”  
  
“Two. Don’t jump around so much!”  
  
“Don’t yell at--”  
  
“Stop squirming!”  
  
“I’m not squirming, hurry!”  
  
“I am! Here, get over the--”  
  
Souji tried to move her over the toilet, so that he could finish unbuttoning her over it, but they lost their balance like awkward dance partners. She panicked as her broken arms instinctively shot out in front again, but he managed to position himself to break her fall and to catch her so that her arms wouldn’t hit anything. They ended up seated on the floor, with her in his lap.  
  
“Naoto, are you alright?”  
  
She answered him with a tearful whimper.  
  
“Naoto, what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Did I--”  
  
“I’m sorry, Souji, I’m sorry...”  
  
A dark stain rapidly grew in her crotch, and moments later hot wetness seeped onto his thigh. They sat in silence for several long moments while she relieved herself, unable to stop once the dam burst open. When she finished, he tried to lighten the mood with a chuckle.  
  
“Ah, well, it’s my fault for not knowing how to get into your pants, right? Um, I suppose I’ll need to clean us up.”  
  
Humiliated as she was, she didn’t notice his erection growing against her hip.  
  
\---  
  
“I’ll clean up the toilet room later, let’s just get you out of these wet clothes first and give you a bath.”  
  
“Th-Thank you, Senpai, I’m sorry to trouble you.”  
  
After a few minutes of struggling in the bathroom, he finally had wrested the accursed pants from her, as well as her soaked panties, which he examined in mock seriousness.  
  
“Hmm, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this wet before, Naoto. _Ow!_ ”  
  
“Just because my arms are broken doesn’t mean I can’t still hurt you, Seta.”  
  
“Point taken. Now about this shirt. Honestly, how the hell did the nurses get this on you?”  
  
“Carefully.”  
  
“Okay, well, try lifting your right arm up... Hmm, maybe the left first?”  
  
The doctors had given her long casts up to mid-bicep on both arms, locking her arms bent in an angle that was just short of an L, so that all she could do was wave her arms around stiffly at the shoulders. She began to wonder just how the nurses did get her T-shirt on.  
  
“I think I’m just going to have to cut it off. Hold still.”  
  
She sighed. “Very well, but this is one of my favorite shirts, Senpai. Honestly, I thought boys were supposed to be good at disrobing girls.”  
  
“I thought I was pretty slick on Christmas Eve.”  
  
“Hmm. I recall giving you an unfair advantage by wearing a skirt.”  
  
“Not a bad idea, did you pack any? Oh, no _sarashi_ , huh? I thought you looked different...” He grinned mischievously and lightly brushed one of her nipples, causing her to blush slightly.  
  
“Th-The nurses couldn’t get it right. And no, I didn’t pack any skirts.”  
  
“Too bad. Hold still, this plastic is slippery and we don’t want your casts getting wet.”  
  
When the waterproof sleeves were on, he had her sit on a bath stool while he disrobed.  
  
“Senpai! What are you doing?”  
  
“Well, I was planning on bathing myself. You did pee on me, too.” She blushed deeper.  
  
“Very well, but wh-why are you so excited?”  
  
It was Souji’s turn to blush, as his full erection was bared.  
  
“I-It’s natural for a guy to be excited when he and his girlfriend are naked together!” He began to flag slightly under her gaze.  
  
“S-So I see. Um, please begin, Senpai.”  
  
“R-Right. I think you’ll have to skip the soak and just stick to sponge baths.”  
  
He started from the top, working shampoo into her short hair gingerly and running his long fingers through her silky tresses. All of her lingering anxiety -- from the car accident, from her own “accident” -- melted away as he massaged her scalp soothingly. He took great care while rinsing, making sure no soap stung her eyes.  
  
A soft, soapy sponge glided up and down over the smooth expanse of her back, then swung around to her front. As he teased her full breasts with the lightest of touches, her whole body stiffened in excitement. Souji didn’t even bother to suppress his smile, she noted. She was about to playfully chastise him, but the sponge slid quickly down her stomach, silencing her as it circled her mound, where it lingered longer than strictly necessary.  
  
She winced slightly as Souji washed her legs. An ugly yellowish-purple bruise mottled the outside of her left thigh from knee to cheek, where she had taken the brunt of the initial impact. The sponge forced a girlish giggle from her as it tickled her sensitive feet; the strong jet of warm water from the shower wand coaxed breathy gasps as Souji rinsed her off, making sure to be especially thorough with her clit.  
  
“Okay, Naoto, Phase 1: Sponge - complete.”  
  
“What’s Phase 2? Towel?”  
  
“Tongue.”  
  
With that single word of warning, Souji lifted her by her waist, propped her bottom on the edge of the tub, gently spread her legs, and stuck his clever tongue in between.  
  
Souji’s technique was exquisite, as always. She couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was exactly that made him so good (besides, Souji’s fingers were on _it_ already).  
  
There wasn’t any one particular trick he used, no erotic silver bullet, but the whole gamut of light flicks and hard licks; short flutters and long kisses; gentle bites and rough nibbles; over and under outer lips and inner lips, hood and erect clit; tracing lines, circles, figure-eights, the whole damn list of _hiragana_ and _katakana_ , half a dictionary’s worth of _kanji_ , and _romanji_ thrown in for good measure.  
  
His hands were brilliant, too, as they roamed all over her body. Sometimes they would part her taut lips to allow his tongue deeper access. Other times, they would gently brush one nipple and roughly flick the other, then alternate. Her favorite was when they simply traced the slim hourglass of her body, starting with her thighs, moving over her hips, sliding over her bottom, caressing her waist, and cupping her breasts.  
  
He took his time, carefully probing and playing with every last millimeter of her sensitive skin. She would have loved to put her hands around his head to grind his face hard against her and smother him, but with her injuries, she was at his complete mercy.  
  
And she desperately wished he would show mercy, let her come right at that moment, because his teasing was driving her insane. Slowly and surely he would build her excitement nearly to climax, yet would back off before she could get off. Then he would start the process all over, going higher and higher but never over the top.  
  
In these situations, the ever-present rational part of her mind always wondered, just how did Souji get so damn good with his tongue? Was there some school? Did he practice? With girls? How many would it have taken to master his perverse craft? He had no shortage of volunteers in Inaba, though he had gently turned almost all of them down.  
  
She knew the one exception was Ebihara, for a little while before the bitch broke it off with him, claiming that she didn’t want to hurt him, whatever that meant. (Though she didn’t take any pleasure in Souji’s pain, she was glad Ebihara had done it, because it meant Souji was free to be hers.) Ebihara was certainly no innocent ingenue, had she--?  
  
But as Souji finally, mercifully sent her over the edge into orgasm after delicious, shuddering orgasm, she decided that she really didn’t give a damn where he learned it, just so long as he was all hers. She rode the rolling waves of pleasure, as contentment bubbled up from her hot wet pussy, through the very core of her being, and finally fizzed in her head, making her feel dizzy and light.  
  
And where he had previously cruelly withheld release, now he mercilessly forced it on her again and again. She could do nothing but endure the sweet agony, her body’s capacity for resistance having long ago been spent. It was too much, too much! She heard herself moan out, “No more!... Don’t!... Stop!...” But Souji had apparently chosen to understand her pleas as, “No! More! Don’t stop!”  
  
The ever-present rational part of her mind took the opportunity to go on an extended vacation.  
  
After an eternity, he turned his attentions from one set of soft pink lips to another. She could taste herself clearly as he kissed her deeply, pulling out the very breath from within her chest, while he stroked her hair and her back.  
  
“I think you’re all clean now,” he purred. “Let’s get you dry and dressed.”  
  
All she could offer in reply was a weak smile as he attended to her.  
  
\---  
  
“Hmph. Would it be possible for me to borrow some of your mother’s clothes?”  
  
“Hmm, Mother is a lot taller than you and not nearly as well-stacked -- _Ow!_ \-- so I don’t think anything of hers will fit you. And I’m certainly not going through the ordeal of putting on and taking off the clothes you packed for yourself. Besides, what’s there to be embarrassed about? It’s just the two of us. And here, I’ll go shirtless, too.”  
  
She shot him a dirty look, but had to admit defeat, despite his laughable argument. If Souji didn’t want to put any clothes on her other than a clean pair of white-and-blue striped panties, she was in no position to force him to.  
  
And no, she was not taking perverse pleasure in prancing around her boyfriend’s parents’ home nearly in the nude. That would be wrong, and she, Naoto Shirogane, the famed Detective Prince, 5th in the line of the esteemed Shirogane line of detectives, was just not that type of girl.  
  
 _Definitely_ not.  
  
“I’ll go out and buy some clothes for you tomorrow. In the meantime, I’ll fix us some dinner.”  
  
\---  
  
“Honestly, Naoto, what’s so hard about holding still? You’re making a mess.”  
  
“You’re the one who decided that we should eat curry rice for dinner!”  
  
“The rest of the Team ate us out of house and home, this was all that was left. Now open wide, Nao-chan~!”  
  
“Nao-chan?! Mmph!”  
  
While some of the heaping spoonful of rice and sauce made it past her lips, an equal amount splattered all over her bare breasts, still sensitive in the lingering afterglow.  
  
“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you, Seta!”  
  
“Doing what?”  
  
Another spoonful of dinner was messily pushed in her half-opened mouth, brown sauce dribbling down her chin and neck.   
  
“Stop, I’m not hungry anymore!”  
  
“Nao-chan, you can’t get up until you’ve cleaned your plate.” This time Souji just smeared the back of the spoon across her cheek. “One way or another...”  
  
A spoonful of sauce was unceremoniously ladled onto her bare lap, mild curry oozing across her slim pale thighs, pooling messily under her bottom, and staining her little cotton panties. Thank goodness the reproduction Eames stacking chair was un-upholstered plastic.  
  
“Fine, fine, fine, I’m hungry! Just stop that!”  
  
“My my, Nao-chan, we need to work on your manners. What does Nao-chan say?”  
  
“Just hurry up and feed me, Seta!”  
  
 _Plop!_ went another serving of sauce, this time marking a trail between her cleavage.  
  
“P-Please.”  
  
He readied another spoonful for delivery to anywhere but her mouth, but paused and smiled. “I think Nao-chan should say, ‘Nao-chan wants Daddy to feed her~!”  
  
“No!” The spoon inched forwards over her thighs and threatened to tip. “F-Fine!... N-Nao-chan wants...”  
  
“Hmm, what’s that?”  
  
“Nao-chan wants Daddy to feed her!”  
  
She felt absolutely mortified. Her face went luminescent red. Her panties moistened further.  
  
“Of course. What Nao-chan wants, Nao-chan gets. Open wide~!”  
  
The rest of dinner went quickly, since there wasn’t much food left on her plate at that point. She obediently opened and closed her mouth like a baby bird, allowing Daddy to feed her. And damn him, she knew it was just a boxed curry mix, but somehow everything he cooked seemed to taste better, though she wasn’t sure if it was because of his culinary skills or the stimulating atmosphere.  
  
When she had cleaned her plate, he stood up from the table and looked down with mock disapproval over her food-stained body.  
  
“ _Sigh_ , I guess we’re going to have to take another bath, Nao-chan,” he said with feigned exasperation. “I hope you’re happy.”  
  
Despite herself, she was indeed, and let herself be dragged to the bathroom. They spent a long while in there, after which she had to be carried out, her legs having failed her.  
  
\---  
  
“Why must I sleep like this, Senpai?”  
  
“Do you want to go through another toilet disaster?”  
  
“Of course not, Senpai, but certainly my undergarments would not be too challenging for you to remove should the need arise!”  
  
“I don’t know, Naoto, I’m a pretty deep sleeper. And don’t worry about getting cold, I’ll be sleeping in your room, too.”  
  
“What!? B-But--”  
  
“I don’t think you should be alone at night in your condition,” he said smoothly.  
  
Damn her arms! “V-Very well. But no funny business, Seta! I would actually like to get some sleep!”  
  
So that was how she found herself sleeping completely naked, somewhat against her will, in a strange bed in a strange home in a strange city with her strange boyfriend.  
  
“Good night, Naoto.” He turned the lights off.  
  
“Good night, Senpai.”  
  
Sleep promised to take her quickly, exhausted as she was from “bathing.” Just as she began to doze off, she felt a curious wiggling between her legs. At first she thought she was dreaming, but the sensation grew stronger and stronger. It was rather pleasant, actually, so she was content to lay there in a half-conscious daze.  
  
Suddenly, something slim and warm thrust into her slick pussy, fully rousing her.  
  
“S-Souji!”  
  
“Yes, Naoto?” He pulled his finger out of her, only to thrust in with two just moments later.  
  
“... Stop that!”  
  
“Stop what?” The fingers slowly pumped in and out, and his thumb began to circle her rapidly stiffening clit.  
  
“... ... That!”  
  
“I’m not doing anything.” The fingers began to curl rhythmically, gently scraping against her most sensitive spot, and the thumb rubbed harder and harder.  
  
“... ... ... Souji, please!” she snapped. “I can’t take this anymore!” The fingers stopped immediately and retreated, though her arousal remained.  
  
“I-- I’m sorry, Naoto,” he said guiltily. “I wanted to make you feel... I didn’t mean... I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry. I’ll leave.” She felt him get up and walk towards the door. Not good, not good, not good...  
  
“That’s not it, don’t leave! I mean... Don’t _tease_ me, Souji! You can’t leave me like this! Y-You need to fuck me right now!”  
  
“Wait. Naoto, are you sure? I mean... I just thought with the big bruise, it would hurt you if we--”  
  
“It’ll be fine!”  
  
She could still feel his hesitation. What a stupid time to be concerned about her injuries! How could she make it clearer to this sexy idiot?  
  
“Um... Nao-chan... Nao-chan wants Daddy’s big fat cock in her! Please!”  
  
Even in the darkness, she could see a wicked smile overtake the gentle concern that had been on his face.  
  
“Nao-chan, are you really sure?”  
  
“Yes! Nao-chan _needs_ Daddy’s cock! Please!”  
  
“Whatever Nao-chan wants...”  
  
She spread her legs with rather indecent haste while he settled on top of her, careful not to crush her or jar her arms at all. Slowly and gently, he made his entrance, pushing in centimeter after throbbing centimeter.  
  
“Nao-chan, let Daddy know if it hurts.”  
  
Though his tongue had already given her much appreciated pleasure, the long awaited feeling of hot fullness inside was (partly) why she was so eager to visit him in the first place. It sure beat the hell out of email.  
  
“Harder, Daddy! Fuck Nao-chan _harder!_ ”  
  
He obliged, gradually increasing the intensity until she was on the verge.  
  
“Yes! Faster, Daddy!”  
  
No, no, _no!_ Bad Daddy! Why was he slowing down? She was _so_ close...  
  
“Harder, Daddy! Harder!”  
  
This was more like it! It wouldn’t be long now, as his thrusts fell into a familiar rhythm, the head of his cock sliding precisely against her most sensitive spot.  
  
“Faster, Daddy! Faster faster _faster!_ ”  
  
 _Why?!_ Why did he slow down? Couldn’t he understand Japanese? It was like he was trying to disappoint her, like a teacher’s pet who suddenly became the class clown.  
  
“Slower, Daddy!” Reverse psychology should do the trick!  
  
Instead, he obeyed her command faithfully, and pumped even slower. Eventually, he slowed to a complete rest with his cock buried to the hilt inside of her.  
  
“Ah! Ah! Daddy, don’t stop!”  
  
 _Dammit!_ What the hell was _wrong_ with him?!  
  
“Nao-chan shouldn’t come so fast,” he whispered in her ear.  
  
Frustration overwhelmed her. How did he _always_ know?  
  
Had she been able to employ her considerable observational skills on herself during sex, she would have discovered her “tell,” the infallible little sign that Souji looked for to know when she was about to come: She would let out a barely audible squeak, exhale completely, and then hold her breath.  
  
There were many other more subtle tells that signaled other things -- like when he should pinch her tits, or when he should flick her clit, or when he should slow down and just gently kiss her on the mouth -- but that little squeak/exhale/hold was the second most important one for this little game.  
  
“Please please _please!_ Let Nao-chan _come~!_ ”  
  
“Well...” He nuzzled her trembling neck. Daddy recognized the most important tell that Nao-chan could give, that _specific_ tone in her desperate pleading. “I guess Nao-chan’s been a good girl...”  
  
Daddy rose up onto his knees and swung Nao-chan’s legs up over his shoulders, to better reward her good behavior.  
  
Through the delightful fog of her own orgasm, she realized that Souji must have been waiting with just as much excitement for her visit as she had, because she had never been filled with so much thick, sticky cum before. Months of pent-up desire gushed into her.  
  
When he _finally_ pulled out, a molten stream poured forth and cooled into a clammy pool beneath of her. It went unnoticed.  
  
She slept like the comfortably dead that night.  
  
#


	3. Day 2

She awoke to an enticing aroma tingling her nose, and padded gingerly out of her room to investigate.  
  
There was nothing for her to wear, but she decided that the rumbling of her stomach was more important than covering her shame (not that there was much left of that). The bruise on her hip stung when she moved, and other, more sensitive parts between her legs were deliciously worse for wear.  
  
Souji was in the kitchen, preparing homemade croquettes.  
  
“Good morning, Senpai!” She looked up at him and pouted expectantly, and was rewarded with a warm embrace and a deep kiss.  
  
“It’s ‘good afternoon’ now, Naoto. You were sleeping so well, I didn’t have the heart to wake you. I already went out and picked up some groceries. Why don’t you go sit down, I’ll be done making lunch in a second.”  
  
“What are these boxes on the table, Senpai?”  
  
“I’d bought those hoping that we could make them together, but I guess it’ll have to wait.”  
  
“That was very thoughtful of you, Senpai... Wait, is this-- You were able to get the original _Big O_ model kit? Every time I track one down, someone steals it from under me!”  
  
“Someone owed me a favor. I know you love that show. For whatever reason.”  
  
“It should be obvious that a combination of retro-style giant robots and film-noir atmosphere would be the best mecha series ever! I’ll admit that the narrative became overly convoluted in the second season, but a little effort reveals some interesting themes, such as...”  
  
Lunch was lively, as she animatedly discussed the philosophical depths of one of her favorite shows to his skeptical amusement, pausing only when Souji carefully put pieces of crispy croquette in her mouth. Thankfully, it seemed he wasn’t in the childish mood of the previous night, so all of her lunch ended up in her.  
  
Afterwards, she was able to relieve herself fully with much less commotion, though Souji took sadistic delight in going through _all_ the washing options of the toilet, spraying her nether regions with warm and cool jets of water from front to rear several times.   
  
He proved to be an excellent lady’s maid, otherwise. He gently brushed her teeth; washed her face with a warm, moist towel; administered her medication (mild painkillers, anti-inflammatories, birth control); and did various other sundry things to prepare her for the day. He even gave her a back massage, loosening the tightness of her shoulders, which were unaccustomed to the awkward dead weight on her arms.  
  
She felt that she could get used to being waited on hand and foot by Souji.  
  
\---  
  
“You’re a louse, Souji Seta,” she deadpanned.  
  
“How do you like them?” Souji had apparently found time to go clothes shopping while he was out before.  
  
“Side-tie panties?”  
  
“Should make going to toilet easier, right? They’re practical.”  
  
“And I suppose the lace trim is practical, too?”  
  
“Of course! Better, um... ventilation!”  
  
“Very funny, Senpai. And these... How am I supposed to wear _these_ in public?” She waved at the assortment of cute little halter-topped, low-backed, short-skirted sundresses.  
  
“Lots of girls wear those. Oh, I got you a new hat, too.” He brandished a very feminine wide-brimmed sun hat with a colorful striped ribbon.  
  
“It’s an adolescent boy’s fantasy of what a girl wears, Senpai. And a loose girl, at that.”  
  
“You’re _already_ in an adolescent boy’s fantasy-wear.” She blushed, having been reminded of her own complete nakedness, which she had oddly become accustomed to. “And anyway, the dresses were Ai’s idea. She even texted me pictures to make sure I got the right ones.”  
  
“E-Ebihara-san?”  
  
“I called her up for some advice, about what would be easy to put on and take off of a pretty girl with two broken arms, but still look good. Here, why don’t we start with the cute yellow one?”  
  
She grumbled as he helped her into one of the dresses, which did not make her feel any more clothed than before. In fact, the garment seemed contrived to titillate the viewer more than if she were fully naked. It was like wearing nothing but an apron. Why couldn’t he have called Kanji for clothing advice?  
  
“I should have figured that Ebihara-san corrupted you, Senpai. And could you _please_ not bring her up?”  
  
“You don’t need to be jealous of her, Naoto. We’re just good friends.”  
  
“Who used to date, if I recall correctly, and I always do.”  
  
“She’s really a nice girl, once you get to know her.”  
  
“I already think you know her _too_ well, Seta.”  
  
“Hmph. You know, she really likes _you_ , Shirogane. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’s one of your fangirls. And last night, you didn’t seem to mind what she taught me.”  
  
“Taught you...? Last night? Oh!” She felt that should could accurately guess what that slut Ebihara’s lesson plan consisted of. “W-Well...” Her whole body tingled pleasantly just by recalling the previous night’s escapades.  
  
 _Pin-pon~!_  
  
Saved by the doorbell! She thanked her lucky stars that she was at least somewhat dressed as Souji went to answer the door.  
  
“Just sign here, sir. Have a good day!”  
  
“Ha, speak of the devil...”  
  
An enormously extravagant basket of fruit had been delivered, full of pristine oranges, peaches, pears, grapes and strawberries, all beautifully wrapped and arranged around the crown jewel: a perfectly spherical and totally flawless watermelon, of a generous size for two people to share. The whole gift must have cost a small fortune. Souji held open a neatly handwritten card addressed to her for her to read.

>   
> 
> 
> _Dear Naoto-chan,_
> 
> _Souji called me this morning. I’m very sorry to hear that you’ve been in a bad accident. I know we’re not BFFs, but I really do hope that you feel better soon! In the meantime, please enjoy this little gift. If it were any other guy, I’d be worried that you’d starve, but I’m sure Souji’s already stuffed you full -- in more ways than one. (^_~)b_
> 
> _Yours truly,  
>  Ai Ebihara_
> 
> _P.S. He already did that thing with his tongue, right? If not, tell him to do it -- it’ll make you feel better, trust me. You can thank me later, it took me ages to train him._   
> 

  
What an impertinent, infuriating, insufferable _bitch!_ Ebihara just _had_ to rub her nose in it that she had been the one to break Souji in first!  
  
Even so, the gift was really a very sweet gesture, and she felt warmed by Ebihara’s touching concern for her. And that thing with his tongue...  
  
“I suppose Ebihara-san is nice, in her own peculiar way.”  
  
“I wouldn’t put it like that to her face unless you had your gun... Would you like to start with the grapes, milady?”  
  
He carefully scooped her up and reclined her on an antique Belle Epoque _chaise longue_ and dangled a bunch of the sweet fruit over her mouth.  
  
That was more like it.  
  
\---  
  
They lounged together comfortably, whiling away the afternoon with Ebihara’s thoughtful present and some classic foreign movies from his parents’ extensive collection.  
  
“As a rule, I’m afraid Mother will only allow movies made before 1960 or in the Janus, Kino, or Criterion Collections into the house.”  
  
“I suppose that’s your excuse for owning a copy of _Armageddon_? The Criterion Collection?”  
  
“Yes. And I happen to think that Michael Bay is underrated.”  
  
“Is that right, Senpai? That’s deeply concerning.”  
  
She gestured to him to help her up so that she could stand and stretch her legs, which he did.  
  
“Oh, you’ve already wrinkled it, Naoto,” he said with poorly contrived surprise as he pointed to the short skirt of her dress.  
  
“It was already wrinkled, Senpai! Linen is supposed to be wrinkled!”  
  
“I think we should save this for when you go outside, hmm?”  
  
And with one quick pull on the loose knot behind her neck, the dress instantly fell to her feet and he had stripped her completely bare.  
  
“Senpai!”  
  
“Well, it’s time for me to start dinner. While I’m doing that, let’s put on some entertainment for you.” He popped a DVD into the player.  
  
 _“I don't wanna close my eyes, I don't wanna fall asleep, 'cause I'd miss you baby and I don't wanna miss a thing...”_  
  
She didn’t know which was the more petty punishment: being stripped naked for insulting Souji’s tragic taste in directors, or being forced to watch that particular movie.  
  
\---  
  
This was definitely more petty.  
  
“I’m a little surprised I found this in storage. Mother is not the sentimental type.”  
  
“Senpai, I--”  
  
Souji gave her a stare that was both light-hearted and deeply threatening, if such an expression could exist.  
  
“Daddy thinks this will make dinner a little more tidy, don’t you, Nao-chan?”  
  
“Um. N-Nao-chan doesn’t want to wear a bib.”  
  
“Hmm, then Nao-chan doesn’t want to eat tonight?”  
  
Despite greedily sampling much of the delicious fruit earlier, she was hungry for something more substantial, and Souji’s _unadon_ smelled amazing. Her stomach rumbled. Well, at least wearing a bib would mean she wasn’t eating while entirely naked...  
  
“P-Please feed Nao-chan, Daddy.”  
  
“Good girl, Nao-chan. Open wide~!”  
  
The rich, fatty eel -- skin crisp, flesh succulent, sauce a perfect balance of sweet and savory -- and the pleasingly sticky rice were exceptionally satisfying; an excellent choice on Souji’s part, she thought. She also had a sneaking suspicion that the dish’s famed stamina-enhancing powers would be quite welcome that night...  
  
\---  
  
Bathtime had been excruciating. Bedtime was even worse.  
  
“Hmm, why should Daddy let Nao-chan come?”  
  
She was literally panting, his lingual prowess having driven her maddeningly close to the edge, but no further. He kept her on the precipice with carefully calculated strokes of his fingers, which easily slid against her slick slit.  
  
“Nao-chan saved Daddy’s life! Please let Nao-chan _come!_ ”  
  
“Daddy is very grateful, Nao-chan, but that’s not why she should come.”  
  
“Nao-chan loves Daddy!”  
  
“Daddy loves Nao-chan, too, but--”  
  
“Nao-chan is a dirty girl! Nao-chan needs Daddy’s cock! Nao-chan will do _anything_ Daddy wants! Please, Daddy, please please _please~!_ ”  
  
That last one seemed to be the answer he was looking for -- her total, unconditional submission to him -- because he finally started to push his cock into her, while his clever hands played with her breasts.  
  
Even after she had fully accepted that she was indeed a woman, she still felt ambivalent about her ample breasts. She had often thought that it was a bad cosmic joke that a girl who wanted nothing more than to be a boy was cursed with such unmistakably feminine curves. (Later, she quietly enjoyed beating Ebihara in at least _one_ department.)  
  
In absolute terms, they weren’t massive or humongous or gargantuan, but they did seem oversized for her slender frame, and their volume was accentuated by the tininess of her waist. Every morning when she carefully compressed them with a _sarashi_ , she dreaded the dull pain that would inevitably flare in the late afternoon before she could go home and loosen them in private.  
  
Rise had gone bra shopping with her after the Team had been to the hospital for their test results. Rise had been very helpful -- as she herself had only a teenage boy’s understanding of the garments (i.e., total ignorance) -- though she had grown tired of Rise “hand-measuring” her every few minutes in the changing room.  
  
After two days of dealing with the blasted things, she had given up and gone back to her wrappings.  
  
She did keep one pair, though -- a lacy black balconette with a tiny pink bow in the center (and matching panties) -- because it had been the most comfortable one and because Rise told her that every woman, including the Detective Prince, needed a set of black bra and panties.  
  
It had been good advice, because when Souji lifted off her _serafuku_ blouse on Christmas Eve and laid eyes upon it, he audibly gasped and nearly fainted, blood rapidly rushing from one head to the other.  
  
She was self-conscious at first whenever he fondled her. He did his best to put her at ease by always starting very slowly, just like he was doing now.  
  
First, fleeting brushes with warm fingers across the tips of her nipples. When they had hardened into erect nubs, thumbs would swirl over her pink, slightly puffy areolae. His hands cupped the full rounded bottoms of her breasts, giving her support that no fabric ever could.  
  
When her shoulders relaxed and a small smile appeared, it was time for more intense stimulation: Mischievous squeezes, gentle pinches, playful kneading. And then there was that ever-clever mouth of his: Languidly licking, eagerly suckling, gently biting.  
  
What never failed to send a delightful shiver down her spine was when he roughly sucked and licked at a nipple till it was hot and raw and wet, then cooled and soothed her by puckering his lips and blowing a long, tickling breeze over it.  
  
Nao-chan bucked and writhed and screamed under and around Daddy’s hands and mouth and cock all night. As he tenderly cradled her afterwards -- her mind blank and body limp from excessive pleasure; eyes heavily-lidded and a wide dopey grin on her face -- he whispered into her ear.  
  
“The real reason why Nao-chan should come is because Daddy loves to see her happy.”  
  
#


	4. Days 3-5

By an unspoken agreement, they established an odd but workable routine. She would awaken sometime after noon, when Souji would feed and clean her. They would spend the afternoon relaxing, talking, playing games, watching TV, and cuddling like normal couples did, with the twist that one partner was kept naked as a newborn all day and completely at the mercy of the other partner, who was a unrepentant deviant underneath a charming mask of normality.  
  
Then dinnertime would come around, when Nao-chan had to beg Daddy to feed her, followed by bathtime, when Nao-chan had to beg Daddy to wash her, followed by bedtime, when Nao-chan had to beg Daddy to fuck the everloving stuffing out of her all night long, until she passed out in ecstasy.  
  
The cycle started anew the next day.  
  
At one point, she wanted to clear the air and ask Souji why he enjoyed sexually humiliating her. It wasn’t because he was hurting her or that she felt in any real danger; it just seemed so out of character for him. During the daytime he was as pleasant and considerate as always, perhaps a little more playful than usual, but no worse. However, as night fell, so did he.  
  
In the end, though, she kept quiet. First, she didn’t want to break the spell. Second, she already knew the answer. The reason he took pleasure in breaking her was the same reason she took pleasure in being broken.  
  
It was the delicious loss of control in a person defined by rationality and restraint.  
  
The broken arms gave them a convenient excuse. Because of them, they could enjoy her powerlessness without any guilt. He could dominate without being monstrous. She could submit without being weak.  
  
And so the days continued...  
  
\---  
  
On the fifth night, he ruthlessly tortured her.  
  
“Tonight, Nao-chan can’t come until Daddy does.”  
  
Damn him, damn him, _damn him!_ Souji had an uncanny endurance, seemingly able to last forever. It had sometimes seemed like he was possessed by some malevolent sex god. Even under normal circumstances, she was always was the one to come first -- sometimes even two or three times before he did -- despite her best efforts to synchronize her orgasms with his. If Daddy was going to take it slow instead, Nao-chan would never come at that rate!  
  
A cunning plan had to be devised. What about... no. Or... maybe. Wait-- Yes! She had him!  
  
“Nao-chan wants to suck Daddy’s cock!”  
  
As eager as Souji was with his mouth, he had always seemed disinclined to be on the receiving end. She had asked him about it once, worried that her own technique was somehow inadequate or inferior to Ebihara’s -- okay, she didn’t know what Ebihara did in bed, but the bitch had a big mouth, so she _must_ have gone down on him.  
  
He had merely replied that while he liked it fine, he knew it wasn’t her favorite, then pushed her down and licked her out for what seemed like hours.  
  
After a few more times, though, she had realized why he avoided it. Just as Achilles had his heel, Souji had his cock; and just as Paris had his arrow, she had her mouth.  
  
He could last and last and last while driving himself in and out of her tight pink pussy, because he was in control and knew what to expect. When she was mounted on top, he could still easily see and account for her forceful riding. But, when she took the reins and creatively employed her tongue and lips and teeth, hidden from view, he lost his ability to predict and thus was forced to come faster. Much, _much_ faster.  
  
“Is Nao-chan sure? Daddy doesn’t want to force Nao-chan.”  
  
“Please, Daddy, fuck Nao-chan’s mouth!”  
  
“Whatever Nao-chan wants...”  
  
He gingerly slid out of her wet pussy and stood, pulling her up to kneel before him. Nao-chan wasted no time in wrapping her mouth around him, tasting her own juices which had slickened all of Daddy’s cock.  
  
Souji wasn’t the only one with technique; she knew a few tricks, too. Okay, so many of them were based on Rise’s hearsay -- sourced from whatever she overheard from the tawdry gossip of other less innocent starlets -- but she had made them her own and could use them to great effect.  
  
Earlier in their relationship, she felt obligated to be polite, to somehow return the favor, because it seemed like Souji couldn’t last more than a day without going down on her, even when she bled.  
  
Before she started dating him, she had been skeptical of the idea of fellatio. It seemed like there was no way for the “provider” to derive any pleasure from the act and, unlike cunnilingus, the simple geometries involved seemed uncomfortable, at best.  
  
It was true that she herself couldn’t come while licking the spine of his shaft and lapping at his glans; or when she gently kissed his tip and then let it explore the back of her throat; or when she bobbed up and down his entire slippery length and gently nuzzled his sensitive pouch.  
  
She couldn’t come doing any of those things, but she did find pleasure in hearing his soft, satisfied moans; and in the gentle way he would cradle her head in his hands, not to command or control, but to stroke her hair and ears; and in feeling the absolute trust he had in her, as his member fearlessly indulged in a sultry, nimble mouth ringed with neat white teeth.  
  
And she wasn’t the only one with tells. When his flat stomach tightened, his strong thighs twitched ever-so-slightly, and he would go completely silent, she knew to brace for his orgasm.  
  
Daddy positively exploded, thick spurts of hot sticky cum flooding her mouth and coating her tongue with his muskiness. Nao-chan kept him deep in her mouth all throughout, greedily lapping at every pearly drop. It was an acquired taste, to be sure, but she had grown to love it.  
  
“ _Mmmmmmmm._ ” Delicious.  
  
When he finally stopped shuddering, she released him, his cock clean as a whistle and not a drop on her lips; the entire load was now warming her belly.  
  
“A-Amazing, Nao-chan. That was _amazing_. Daddy hasn’t come that hard in a while.”  
  
Yes yes _yes!_ Now for _her_ turn! Stick it in before--  
  
“But Daddy’s a little tired now, so he’s going to sleep. Good night, Nao-chan!”  
  
She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry or scream, so she just knelt there slack-jawed, stunned and frustrated. After a few minutes, however, he apparently saw the utter desperation on her face and decided to show mercy.  
  
“Well, I suppose if Nao-chan really wants to...”  
  
“Yes yes _yes!_ Nao-chan _really_ wants to!”  
  
“Okay, but because Daddy’s tired, Nao-chan will have to do all the work.”  
  
He lifted her up, laid himself down face-up on the futon, and guided her over him, so that she was on top. She squealed a little as she sank down on him, finally being rewarded with the sensation of his thick cock filling her up.  
  
Daddy held her upright as she frantically bounced herself up and down. Frustratingly, this was only making her torment worse! Had her arms been uninjured, she would have been able to properly straddle him, hands on either side of his head to support her weight as she stroked deeply and deliberately.  
  
She badly needed her comfort blanket, the position that never failed to get her screaming.  
  
“Daddy, fuck Nao-chan like a doggy!”  
  
Intellectually, she knew it was often considered a more “dehumanizing” position: There was the lack of eye contact, the receiver’s relative passivity, the resemblance to raw animal copulation.  
  
She didn’t care. It felt way too good to be wrong.  
  
Whimpering a little, she emptily waited for Souji to roll up the comforters into a large makeshift cushion that she could rest her stomach on -- she wouldn’t be able to support any of her weight with her broken arms. Daddy carefully bent Nao-chan over it and she splayed her legs invitingly for him.  
  
Souji was large enough so that the very tip of his cock just barely kissed her cervix when they were face to face, regardless of who was on top. But when he could take a tight grip on her hips and really drive himself into her, his cock gave her innermost reaches the attention she craved.  
  
Being pounded -- and “pounded” was really the only word for it -- like this hurt, but in a good way, like how the electric shocks that traveled down her left leg as his hips slapped into her bruise only seemed to intensify the charge that was inexorably threatening to spark within. The heady mixture of pain and pleasure proved to be far greater than the sum of its parts, and she screamed out lustily -- tongue lolling out and eyes rolling up -- as ecstasy erupted within.  
  
They came together, shuddering in unison. She could feel a comforting liquid heat glow within her. He continued to slide in and out of her for as long as he could bear it, forcing her to feel aftershocks of bliss on every thrust, until he gently collapsed on top of her, spent.  
  
They stayed like that for a long time until he regained his strength and she regained her mind. Returning from seventh heaven, she was pleased to find herself still bent over the sturdy cushion.  
  
There was a second, more shameful reason for why she liked her favorite position. She knew that he could never ignore the other gift staring him in the face, no matter his condition.  
  
Souji -- generous and considerate Souji, calm and collected Souji -- would never request the Act outright, apparently afraid that she would find it insulting or violating or simply boring. While it was true that she never physically came much from the Act itself and wasn’t always in the mood for it, its taboo mystique made the Act all the more exhilarating for her when she did want it, so she was more than happy to offer the irresistible treat on special occasions.  
  
Like this one. Nao-chan wriggled her hips a little, an unmistakable signal.  
  
“Is Nao-chan a dirty girl?” he asked, after they had both recovered enough.  
  
“Yes, Daddy!”  
  
“What does Nao-chan want?”  
  
“Nao-chan wants Daddy to fuck her in the ass!”  
  
She shivered a little as he took a hold of the cheeks of her smooth round ass and spread them wide, completely exposing her dark pink pucker. His erect cock penetrated her quivering quim a few more times, to ensure that the entire length was slick and slippery, before he eased against the hole just above.  
  
She forced herself to relax, to allow him to enter her. Even so, she knew that her body’s stubborn resistance was a large part of the Act’s appeal.  
  
She winced slightly as he very slowly forced his way in, until his wrinkled pouch was flattened against her cheeks. Then he just as slowly pulled out completely, before thrusting in fully again. In time, the strokes grew more and more rapid and his grunts louder and louder as he reveled in her tightest hole. She closed her eyes and basked in the feeling of being stretched and melted from the inside out.  
  
Daddy remembered to be considerate, too, to let Nao-chan feel pleasure equal to his.  
  
While one of his hands rested on her hips, the other dove down between her legs. Three fingers sunk into the sticky mess that was her pussy, pumping and curling within her rhythmically, giving special attention to her most sensitive spot. After a time, he pulled out and swapped hands, reaching the first one forward -- now coated with his cum and her juices -- and sticking its fingers into her mouth.  
  
It was times like this when she was truly glad to be a girl, to be able to enjoy the transcendent fullness of being triple penetrated by her beloved. All her senses were filled with him: The heat of his cock burning inside the vise-like tightness of her ass; his strong fingers plunging deep into her sloppy cunt; and in her mouth, the intoxicating flavor and scent of their mingled essences, which she hungrily devoured.  
  
An eternity of euphoria unfolded between each racing heartbeat.  
  
Nao-chan was _such_ a dirty girl that she couldn’t imagine anything better afterwards than just falling asleep right then and there, face down and ass up, with Daddy’s cum oozing out of both her holes and its taste still heavy on her tongue. Contentment radiated through every fiber of her body.  
  
In the haze of afterglow and drowsiness, she dimly felt that someone gently cleaned her up with a warm moist washcloth, carefully turned her onto her back, sweetly tucked her into her comfy bed, and affectionately kissed her goodnight on the forehead before curling up next to her and whispering, “I love you.”  
  
Nao-chan loved that person, too...  
  
#


	5. Day 6

“It’s not summer without watermelon, right?”  
  
“I suppose so, Senpai.”  
  
She tried to play it cool, but that damn watermelon Ebihara had given her was the best she ever had: Unbelievably crisp, sweet, and refreshing, with dense, impossibly red flesh and glossy, black-lacquered seeds. And with just a light dusting of that special French sea salt that had been thoughtfully provided, it was difficult to imagine that another fruit could ever reach this Platonic ideal of flavor.  
  
She swore that the next time she saw Ebihara, Nao-chan would say sorry and do _anything_ Mommy wanted, just tell Nao-chan where Mommy bought it from.  
  
They had finally finished the rest of the fruit from Ebihara’s gift, saving the best for last. Souji had refrigerated the melon, but not too cold, the perfect temperature for maximum taste while also relieving the discomfort of the sweltering day; even the Setas’ top-end air conditioning was struggling to keep the heat at bay.  
  
It took all of her willpower to stop herself from greedily gobbling up slice after slice. First, she wanted to savor it as long as possible. Second, she could not let Souji know just how much she was enjoying it, or Daddy would have Nao-chan sucking his cock just to get another taste. Well, not that she would mind that, but--  
  
“It looks like you died and went to heaven, Naoto.”  
  
Dammit! He was onto her! Although upon reflection, the sticky pink juice smeared across her cheeks and running in rivers down her chin, neck, and bare breasts, as well the black seeds strewn all over her pale skin, had probably made it obvious. Oh well, time for Nao-chan to open wide and suck Daddy’s big fat--  
  
“Here Naoto, have another slice. But you should chew, you know?”  
  
“Mmmmm. Senpai, just a _touch_ more salt, please.”  
  
“No problem... I’m surprised I haven’t lost a finger yet. Here you go, eat up!” Souji seemed genuinely amused by her childlike enthusiasm.  
  
In the end, she must have eaten three-quarters of the whole melon by herself. She licked her lips contentedly while Souji proposed the day’s entertainment.  
  
“You’re probably getting a little cabin fever, right? Does your thigh feel okay? I know it’s kind of hot outside, but do you want to walk around the city today?”  
  
She nodded languidly. Sated by the syrupy treat, she would have agreed to just about anything.  
  
\---  
  
  
It felt a little strange to be back in the real world. For five days, her world had been completely defined by Daddy’s humiliating whims and Nao-chan’s own shameful, insatiable need to be fucked senseless.  
  
Souji had elected to clothe her in a flimsy blue-and-white seersucker sundress that was slightly more modest than the others he bought. Nevertheless, its empire waist accentuated her unbound breasts to full effect, as did the placement of the casts, which made her look like she was hugging herself beneath her bust.  
  
They were an odd accessory for her feminine ensemble, along with the pair of simple white straps that the doctors had given her for slings. She hadn’t bothered with the slings while in the apartment. It didn’t hurt much to move her arms, but it seemed prudent if they were to be walking around, especially since her legs were still wobbly after the intense exertions of the previous night.  
  
She realized that she looked more than a little absurd, even had she been uninjured. Here she was, the Detective Prince -- who had long passed (very convincingly!) as a boy -- basically in drag. She was grateful for the wide-brimmed sun hat Souji rested on her head, because it helped hide her face from anyone that might recognize her.  
  
She was less grateful when he made her pose for a few photos, saying that Ebihara had wanted to see if her fashion advice had been good. What was it with that girl? He joked that at least Ebihara hadn’t wanted nudie pictures...  
  
They walked around his neighborhood for a while, exploring the shops and chatting amiably. Unsurprisingly, Souji was well-known and well-liked by almost all the locals in the area, with a rather annoyingly large number of young female admirers. He puffed with pride when introducing her as his girlfriend, to their disappointment and envy.  
  
Despite the slightly embarrassing stares she garnered, presumably because of her conspicuous injuries (though in actual fact, because of her delightfully girlish charm), she was glad to be out in the open air again.  
  
Souji bought drinks and Topsicles for her from vending machines, telling her that it was important to stay hydrated in this sort of heat. She absently noted, though, that while he made her drink a whole bottle of something almost every half an hour or so, he had been nursing the same water bottle the entire afternoon.  
  
He was probably just being overprotective, just like when he spent nearly half an hour carefully rubbing sunscreen over every centimeter of her pale skin. “We don’t want you getting burned,” he said. While it was true that the thin material of her revealing dress wouldn’t protect her much from the sun, she was also pretty sure that her breasts and bottom and mound would not be in such grave danger.  
  
Eventually, Souji led them to a secluded park. The shade from the densely packed trees offered welcome relief from the hot afternoon sun. The park was almost eerily empty -- she recalled seeing only one old woman walking along an overgrown path, but no one else. She supposed that it was probably quieter than usual because many of the normal visitors had decided to stay indoors with their air conditioning, which seemed like a good idea in hindsight.  
  
The two of them wandered seemingly aimlessly, until they were deep in the heart of a dark forest within the city: a tiny remnant of primordial Japan and the era of the gods, surrounded by the mirrored man-made facades towering above.  
  
“Senpai, could we find someplace to sit down?”  
  
“Sure, Naoto. My favorite spot over here has a bench. Are you tired?”  
  
“A little, but mostly my feet hurt. _Ahhh_.” Sitting down never felt so good.  
  
“Hmm, I guess you’re not used to wearing heels.”  
  
Souji sat on the ground in front of her and untied the ribbons around her ankles that secured the wedge sandals. She sighed happily as he massaged her feet.  
  
“I shouldn’t have listened to Ai about the shoes. Her philosophy is, ‘If they don’t hurt, they can’t be hot.’”  
  
She internally cursed Ebihara’s fashion sense. How did other women walk in these things all day? Sure, these sorts of shoes looked good on a girl like Ebihara, who was so effortlessly pretty. It was a little painful to admit, but she was a little jealous of how Ebihara made it look easy, to be so feminine yet so confident at the same time.  
  
Although, if Ebihara wore shoes like this all the time, it certainly explained the crankiness...  
  
Laughter suddenly burst out from her. “Hahahahaha! What hahahaha-are haha-you hahaha-doing?!”  
  
“It should be obvious, Detective.” The soles of her feet were being tickled savagely.  
  
“Hahahaha-S-S-Senpai! Haha-S-S-Stop! I-I-I’m hahaha-going to hahahahaha-w-w-wet hahaha-myself!”  
  
“Do you really need to pee that badly?”  
  
“Hahahaha-Y-Y-Yes! Haha-P-Please! Hahahaha-S-Stop!”  
  
He stopped instantly. “How much longer can you hold it?” he asked intently.  
  
“Hahaha... Um, now that you mention it, I could probably make it to one of the shops we passed by, Senpai. But we should hurry.” She unconsciously crossed her legs slightly.  
  
“Nao-chan, you can pee after Daddy comes.”  
  
“W-What? S-Senpai, don’t joke around like that...”  
  
“Nao-chan doesn’t have a change of clothes if she wets herself. Unless Daddy helps her, Nao-chan’s going to be walking home all wet and dirty. Or naked.”  
  
Souji stood and pushed his crotch suggestively in front of her face.  
  
 _He was out of his damn mind!_  
  
She knew she should just run off at that point, some shopkeeper would probably help her. But he had her shoes, and the pavement of the streets would be searingly hot, and she realized that she hadn’t been paying attention, so she didn’t really know how they had gotten to this particular thicket in the maze-like park.  
  
“S-Senpai, please... please don’t make me...”  
  
“N-Nao-chan, don’t disappoint Daddy...”  
  
“Souji, please don’t!”  
  
“D-Daddy will punish Nao-chan...”  
  
Icy fear gripped her and she shivered in the sweltering heat.  
  
This wasn’t Daddy.  
  
This wasn’t Souji.  
  
It couldn’t be her Souji. Souji wouldn’t do this, force her to pleasure him in a public place while effectively holding her hostage. This wasn’t the fun little game between Daddy and Nao-chan they played in private. This was a bad dream, she must have fallen asleep in the apartment.  
  
The insistent discomfort of her swollen bladder suggested otherwise, though.  
  
“No, Souji! Please, no...”  
  
She squirmed on the bench. He moved to shift the erection that was straining hard at the fabric of his pants.  
  
“N-Nao-chan should hurry...”  
  
This was a nightmare.  
  
This had to be a nightmare, like all those dungeons the Team had faced, where those dark, twisted versions of her friends had tried to break them; though she hadn’t seen theirs, she could easily imagine what they were like based on their descriptions and the experience with her own doppleganger. They had made it through, all of them, bested their Shadows, thanks to their Leader’s steady guidance.  
  
And then it struck her that none of them had ever seen Souji’s Shadow.  
  
Was this it? This hideous thing that looked just like Souji and sounded just like Souji and smelled just like Souji? This thing with predatory eyes and evil intellect, who had cunningly tricked her into trapping herself with her own painfully full bladder, prepared with too much melon and endless drinks?  
  
She never felt so betrayed, so vulnerable, so powerless.  
  
Tears welled up and stained her cheeks, her lips quivered, her face flushed, her breaths became ragged; all the obvious signs of a girl breaking down and crying. As he began to unzip his fly, she tried to plead with him one last time in a tiny choked voice.  
  
“Souji... please... please don’t rape me!”  
  
And all of a sudden, the Shadow was gone and her Souji was back, clear grey eyes wide with shock.  
  
“R-Rape...? Oh my god, Naoto, I--! I--! I--!” He seemed at a loss. “That’s-- _That’s not me!_ ”  
  
She had heard _those_ words before. She glared at him through the ebbing tears, unconvinced.  
  
“N-Naoto, I would never ra--... I could never ra--...” He couldn’t even seem to say the word again. “I could never hurt you, Naoto!”  
  
She flinched as he fell to his knees and held her tight against him, the casts digging into both their chests.  
  
“Don’t touch me.”  
  
“N-No, don’t-- I... I like being in control... I like having things go my way... I like getting other people to do what I want... I guess that _is_ me, but I don’t want to hurt you, Naoto! I... I got carried away, and I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”  
  
She listened to him impassively.  
  
“Pee. Now.”  
  
He awkwardly helped her to her feet. There was not enough time now to reach any of the shops, so she walked barefoot on the grass over to the edge of a little knoll behind a thick hedge, though there was no one around to watch.  
  
“Panties.”  
  
He quickly hiked up her skirt with one hand and unknotted her small white side-tie panties with the other. As soon as it was clear, she relieved herself over the edge of the knoll while standing up. She was accustomed to that; she often used men’s room urinals when trying to pass as a boy, though it was slightly messier without the use of her fingers.   
  
While she would normally have been embarrassed doing this in the open, she just blankly went about her business. She allowed him to pat her dry with a tissue and re-tie her panties.  
  
Afterwards, Souji brought them back to the bench, where he sat her in his lap, his arms wrapped around her waist. They sat locked in that tight embrace for a long time. She just sat there numbly; he cried softly and whispered unending apologies in her ear.  
  
“I’m sorry, forgive me, I love you, I’m sorry, forgive me, I love you, I’m sorry, forgive me, I love you...”  
  
Finally, she felt like she had regained enough of her composure to be coherent.  
  
“Just never do that again, you stupid idiot.”  
  
“I promise. Never again. Never again.”  
  
“Good. Idiot.”  
  
\---  
  
After they watched the sun set in the sky until it could barely be seen over the tops of the trees, Souji found his voice.  
  
“A-Are you hungry, Naoto? I-I know this great little _yakiniku_ place not far from here...”  
  
The restaurant certainly was little, but it was far from being the shabby hole-in-the-wall she expected a high school student would frequent. A line of impeccably fashionable young adults snaked out the door, waiting to get into the exclusive establishment. Souji obviously thought that an expensive dinner would convince her to forgive him for his earlier transgressions.  
  
It wouldn’t, but it was a good start.  
  
Though he didn’t have a reservation, they were seated immediately. Apparently, the _maitre d’_ owed Souji a big favor, something about Souji helping him overcome a crippling personal issue. It seemed that Souji had been up to his usual habits even in the big city.  
  
Unlike his playful dining behavior at home, Souji here was a model gentleman. He expertly tended the vast array of sizzling meat and vegetables on the grill, fed her nimbly and carefully, offered a refreshing beverage only when necessary, and tenderly dabbed an errant drop of sauce at the corner of her mouth with a napkin. Everything was perfectly delicious.  
  
They ate in near-total silence. She couldn’t bring herself to forgive him yet, despite his obviously sincere attempts at apologetic ingratiation.  
  
Still, she couldn’t help but feel a little smug when the female half of a passing couple glanced enviously at them and playfully whined to her companion, “ _Honey~!_ Why don’t you ever take care of _me_ like that?”  
  
She wryly laughed a little to herself. _Because it costs two broken arms and some of your dignity. And I really don’t think you want him to take care of you the way Daddy takes care of Nao-chan..._  
  
Honey seemed less impressed. He shot a dark look at Souji as if to say, sarcastically, “Dude, thanks a _lot_ for raising the bar,” only to lighten up when he saw Souji’s obvious hangdog expression. Then Honey softened, silently giving Souji a sympathetic nod of, “You must’ve fucked up big, dude. Hang in there.”  
  
“Seriously, Miss, I’m so jealous!” cried the waitress later, as Souji blushed and took the bill. “You’re so lucky!”  
  
“Hmm, am I?...”  
  
A deeply worried look flashed across Souji’s face as she hesitated, frowned, and silently reflected on all the degrading things Daddy had done to Nao-chan in their brief co-habitation, especially the things he made her do in the park just hours earlier.  
  
Still, the deep warmth she felt inside as she considered their relationship was proof enough to her that she really did love him, as foolish and crazy as that sounded.  
  
Everyone in the Team had their inner demons, including herself, but they were all good people in spite of them -- why would Souji be any different? She was willing to take his word -- that he had not intended to take their game past her limits -- in good faith.*  
  
A small smile played across her lips, and she finally let out a satisfied, “Yes, I suppose I am.”  
  
  
 _(* As part of her extracurricular studies with Grampa, she had become familiar with a “prison experiment” conducted by an American university in the 1970s. Knowledge of the guards’ behavior in that experiment had factored into her leniency.)_  
  
\---  
  
That night, for the first time in a long while, Souji and Naoto enjoyed simple, sweet love-making and cuddled afterwards -- tenderly making up for the day’s events and helping to restore her trust in him -- while Daddy and Nao-chan took a well-deserved night off.  
  
#


	6. Day 7

She hated him. Stupid Daddy! Daddy was so _mean!_  
  
She writhed and squirmed, futilely trying to rub her thighs together and grind her ass against the slick plastic of the seat, to somehow increase the stimulation to her sopping wet pussy so that she could _finally_ come!  
  
She had been sitting all alone in the apartment for a little more than an hour in the center of the closed guest room, being brutally tortured.  
  
Securing her to the front two legs of the Eames stacking chair was nothing more than two ribbons of plain paper, each wound around one of her ankles and a chair leg, and secured by a single staple each. Flimsy as the cuffs were, she dared not break them, fearing the awful consequences.  
  
Her arms were in their simple slings and arranged to hug herself beneath her breasts, so that she couldn’t touch anything below her waist; paper cuffs also bound arms and slings together to prevent any other cheating.  
  
The implements of her torment were simple. Six small bullet vibrators, each one not much larger than a thumb, had been applied to strategic parts of her body. One each was taped to her hard nipples; another taped to her swollen clit; two buried in her drenched pussy and one up her quivering ass. All were dialed to a low intensity that only served to tease her; their wired remotes were taped to the back of the chair behind her, out of reach.  
  
An oscillating pedestal fan had been placed in front of her, its gentle breeze periodically tickling her sweat-beaded skin and arousal-slickened slit. Between the fan’s droning white noise and the darkness imposed on her by a blindfold, she could do nothing but concentrate on the infernal vibrators.  
  
What had she done to deserve this?  
  
\---  
  
 _Earlier that day..._  
  
They hadn’t bathed the previous night, because Souji couldn’t wait to carry her into her room to apologize, showering her with passionate kisses on the mouth, on the neck, and on parts much lower. She elected to accept this apology, at length, along with other acceptable atonements. As a result, they were both sticky, sweaty messes when they woke up that morning.  
  
Even so, they had lain together -- she on top of him, chest on chest, his arms around the small of her back -- for quite a long time after awakening, neither wanting to let go of their renewed rapport. Their hearts were shaken more by the comfortable contact of their flushed, bare skins than by a thousand words.  
  
The events of the previous day seemed like a lifetime ago and she felt completely refreshed from a full night’s deep sleep. She eventually rose up and straddled him, to look into his eyes. Her Souji -- the real Souji -- was there.  
  
She never felt so safe, so loved.  
  
After they leisurely enjoyed a breakfast of tea and toast with butter and strawberry jam -- during which conversation had been dominated by Souji’s assertions that he was so incredibly, unbelievably lucky to have her; to which she had coyly agreed that he really didn’t deserve her at all and it was nothing but Fortune that kept them together -- they were about to go bathe when something on the table caught her eye.  
  
“Senpai, what’s in this other box next to the model kits? The one wrapped in brown paper?”  
  
It was a rush-delivered package addressed to him from Tanaka’s Amazing Commodities that had arrived the previous day while they were out. Was it another model? Ooh, maybe Giant Robo...  
  
“The box with brown-- Oh, that! Um, it’s nothing, nothing at all.”  
  
“Really? Trying to keep secrets from me, Seta?” she teased.  
  
He took the accusation at face value. “No, it’s not like that! It’s-- It’s just that I don’t think you’ll be in the mood for them after what I... what I... I’m sorry...” he trailed off lamely, still ashamed by his own behavior the previous day.  
  
She sidled right next to where he stood, hooked her stiff arms around his waist, and looked up into his eyes.  
  
“Souji, what you did yesterday was _very_ wrong. I can’t just forget it, but I can forgive you. And I believe you when you say it will never happen again. Now, what could be in that box that’s so bad? Show me. I’ll try to understand.”  
  
“You’re too good for me.” He leant down slightly and kissed her forehead. “Um... alright. Please don’t be mad...”  
  
She didn’t know what to expect, but her eyes bulged a little when he nervously unwrapped the box of brand-new vibrators. Where did he get the courage to buy those? When? And so many of them? What had the sales operator thought?  
  
He stared at the floor. “Um, I had... I had ordered these a few days ago to play a... a special game with you, but... It’s a stupid idea, I’m sorry, Naoto. I’ll throw them out.”  
  
“W-Wait.”  
  
There were many attributes that made her an excellent detective. She was calm and collected; intelligent and observant; determined and courageous. But most importantly, she was incurably curious.  
  
“W-What did you have in mind, Senpai?”  
  
“Um, well, I was going to... to...” A dark blush spread all over his face.  
  
“Going to what? Tell me.” She was intrigued now, causing her vivid imagination to run wild. Dammit, why was she getting so wet? _He_ was the pervert that ordered those things, not her. _She_ was normal. Right?  
  
He gave her a small, playful smile when he caught glimpse of her arousal. “Um... W-Would Nao-chan like to find out for herself?”  
  
“Hmm...”  
  
Though the previous night’s vanilla lovemaking was heartwarming and comforting and satisfying, she had to admit to herself that she had developed an embarrassingly healthy appetite for more... exotic tastes. And her curiosity had made her undeniably hungry.  
  
“Yes, Daddy. Let’s play.”  
  
He seemed a little surprised, but excited nonetheless. “O-Okay. But first, we should really take a bath.”  
  
He easily worked her into a frenzy during the special extra-long bathtime, but, as normal -- or what passed for normal for Daddy and Nao-chan -- denied her release.  
  
Daddy led a naked, squeaky clean, and incredibly horny Nao-chan back into the guest room and asked her again if she wanted to play the special game. When she enthusiastically agreed, he made her sit completely still and silent as he prepared her for playtime. He carefully adorned her with the vibrators and put fresh batteries in before turning all of them on.  
  
“Ai loved these type of little guys. Sometimes she said they were better than me.”  
  
Ebihara was clearly an idiot, because what Nao-chan needed right now wasn’t some infuriating buzzing, but Daddy’s big hard cock jammed so far up her pussy that she could taste it when he came. Alright, that wasn’t anatomically possible, but--  
  
And why was it that Ebihara always had to be brought up? Was this Ebihara’s idea? To punish her for dating Souji? She gave him a familiar angry raised eyebrow that he recognized.  
  
“Oh, don’t worry, Nao-chan, this is all Daddy’s idea. Auntie Ai never played games like this. And she only ever used one. Anyway, Daddy would much rather play with Nao-chan.”  
  
He briefly turned up the intensity of the vibrator on her clit to maximum, causing her to jolt, before returning it to a low monotonous hum.  
  
“F-Fuck Nao-chan now, Daddy! _Please!_ ”  
  
“Daddy would love to, but he has to run a little errand first. It won’t take long, not more than an hour. Or two.”  
  
He put the finishing touches on her paper restraints, making sure everything was in order.  
  
“If there’s an emergency, you can just stand up; the paper should rip easily and you’ll be free. And I’ll put your cell phone on the table here; I’ve already put my number in and I can be back in 5 minutes if you call.”  
  
The blindfold was tied over her eyes.  
  
“But Nao-chan, if you rip the paper and there isn’t an emergency, then Daddy won’t let Nao-chan come _at all_ today. Does Nao-chan understand?”  
  
“Y-Yes, Daddy.”  
  
“Does Nao-chan really want to keep playing?”  
  
“Yes, Daddy.”  
  
He ruffled her hair and gave her a deep kiss. “Good girl. Daddy will be back soon.”  
  
\---  
  
So in the end, she had no one to blame for her predicament but herself. If only she hadn’t opened her big mouth...  
  
Nao-chan sat there for a very long time -- bound stationary with stationery; blind and deaf to the world outside the prison of her body’s desire as her heart raced and the fan hummed and the vibrators buzzed away -- _aching_ for Daddy to come home and give her a good, long, hard fucking.  
  
Curiosity was killing her cat, as it were. She hoped that her satisfaction would be brought back, and soon.  
  
Until then, she had only those blasted vibrators and her own thoughts to occupy herself. Thoughts that always seemed to turn towards how Souji’s cock would feel really good in her pussy right now, and maybe if she twitched her right thigh just a _little_ \--  
  
 _Dammit!_ Did something just rip? No, no, _no!_  
  
She couldn’t think about sex, or else she’d be liable to break her bonds. She couldn’t keep thinking about how Souji’s tongue always knew just how hard to flick her clit right before she--  
  
 _Dammit!  
  
Pull yourself together, Shirogane. Thinking about it makes it worse. Relax. Alright, this is a simple application of mind over matter. You can do this, Shirogane._  
  
She tried to think about nothing. Like how _nothing_ was fucking her brains out right that instant--  
  
She tried to think about her recent cases: A lost cat _(hiding under the couch)_ ; missing shoes from a shoe locker _(the owner forgot she had loaned them out)_ ; a method for determining which box of animal crackers was sure to have a penguin _(the statistical distribution of crackers is random)_ ; the true nature of a certain squeaky, sparkly blond _(ongoing)_. The Case of the Hollow Girl. The Case of the Missing Cock--  
  
She tried to think about her schoolwork. In English class, she had recently learned the word “tantalizing.” Derived from the Greek myth of Tantalus, the infamous criminal forced to sit under a fruit tree that was always too high to eat from and in a pool of water that was always too low to drink from. T-a-n-t-a-l-i-z-i-n-g. Tantalizing. Like how the vibrator that was _right_ on top of her most sensitive spot was--  
  
Biology. How many bones were in the human body? Two-hundred and six. How many bones had she broken? Three. How many bones was she interested in? One: Souji’s magnificently long, hard, thick, hot, juicy--  
  
She tried to think about her least favorite things in the world. Food she didn’t like _(celery)_. Movies she didn’t like _(damn you, Michael Bay!)_. The last man on earth she would ever have sex with _(sorry, Yosuke-senpai, you’re the complete opposite of the strong, silent type)_.  
  
Not like Souji, who could make himself understood with just a glance, like his hypnotic come-hither looks that just made her so _incredibly_ horny--  
  
What would Daddy do to Nao-chan when he came home? Would Daddy throw her to the ground, introduce her ankles to her ears, and split her pussy in half? Would he bend her over a table and plow her ass so hard that she couldn’t sit down for a week? Or maybe he would tickle her tonsils as he plumbed the depths of her throat?  
  
Why choose?  
  
Suddenly there were two Soujis, then three, then an endless orgy. All three of her holes were stuffed with cock and dozens of lips and tongues and hands played all over her body. Pumping and thrusting, groping and fondling, kissing and licking, the mob of Soujis would fuck her into a delirious jelly, filling her insides to overflowing and inundating her in a sea of cum. She wanted to bathe in it, swim in it, drown in it, and oh god this wasn’t helping at all...  
  
Maybe if she got angry! Hmm, who did she _not_ like-- Ebihara! That _bitch!_ Yes, this was good. That stuck-up bitch, always flipping her long, wavy hair around in that condescending way _(short hair is much more practical, thankyouverymuch)_ , smirking all the while with her perfect pink lips _(one day it’ll get stuck that way)_.  
  
That long, silky hair. It probably smelled really nice, like vanilla or almonds. And those glossy, pouty lips -- what was her secret? Good genes? Special lip gloss? Collagen injections? They would probably be really nice to kiss. She would grab the slut by the hair and force her tongue into that mouth and rip open the expensive blouse and then slip her hand down the tiny skirt, under lacy panties, and--  
  
Okay, maybe thinking about Ebihara wasn’t such a good idea. _Keep it together, Shirogane, you’re not a lesbian._  
  
Not that there was anything wrong with that; she had been so happy for Chie-senpai and Yukiko-senpai when they finally took the plunge, they were perfect together. On the other hand, she and Ebihara would _not_ be perfect for each other -- it would be a farce if she tried to lick out Ebihara’s sure-to-be perfectly-trimmed pussy while Ebihara tongued her hairless mound at the same time and--  
  
Alright, dammit, she was curious. Being curious was part of the job, of being a detective. It was like her favorite stories: She would be the hardboiled private eye and Ebihara would be the leggy broad who was bad news in high heels. Souji could be her trusty sidekick. The three of them would go on adventures. Sexy adventures. A sexy threesome. _Menage a trois..._  
  
Curiosity would be natural in that sort of situation, like testing Souji’s heroic endurance against two insatiable succubi. Nothing wrong with being curious, like seeing which Ebihara liked better inside: Souji with his natural glory or she with a double-ended strap-on. Being curious never got you into trouble, like being stripped naked, tied to a chair, and having vibrators shoved up your--  
  
Finally, she could hear the front door unlock and open, and a pair of feet enter the apartment. _Satisfaction!_  
  
“Please, Daddy, please please _please~!_ Nao-chan’s been a _good_ girl! Nao-chan needs to _come~!_ ”  
  
The bedroom door slid open.  
  
“Nao-chan needs Daddy’s cock! _Fuck Nao-chan now~!_ ”  
  
“What in the world? Oh my goodness! Minoru, do _not_ come into the apartment! You poor dear, let me help!”  
  
“Junko, why can’t I go into my own-- Oh. _Oh!_ Oh good heavens-- Please forgive me, Miss! I’ll just be going...”  
  
“Oof! Excuse me, sir, I-- _Dad?_ What are you doing h-- Oh no. _Mother?!_ ”  
  
“Sou! Ji! Se! Ta! You! Are! In! SOOOOOO! MUCH!! _TROUBLE!!!_ ”  
  
\---  
  
Souji’s father, Minoru Seta, was a very nice man. Slim and boyish, with neatly-styled short grey hair, he looked like he could be Souji’s older brother. He normally had a calm, soft voice which suited his usually collected demeanor, but not at the moment, as he tried to engage in small talk with his son’s now fully dressed yet very embarrassed girlfriend, who was trying rather hard to disappear between the cracks of the cushions of the _chaise longue_.  
  
“Um, Shirogane-san... Souji has told us so much about you... Ahaha, only good things, of course, only good-- oh, not about _this_ , I mean... not that it’s _bad_ , everyone has their... for example, Junko and I like _cos_ \-- uh, um... I didn’t mean... I mean, what you two do in private is your own... and, of course... um... Ah! That’s right, you like _gunpla!_ ”  
  
Minoru nervously pointed at the boxed model kits with his fashionable eyeglasses -- which he had removed earlier to avoid eye contact with her, a gesture intended to let her know that he wasn’t ogling her -- as he desperately tried to change the subject. It was charmingly awkward and put her more at ease.  
  
“Haha, I made my fair share when I was younger! It was good practice for my job, I thought, but Junko...”  
  
Souji’s mother, Junko Seta, clearly wore the pants in the family. Though Minoru was well-known and well-respected in the world of architecture, it was common knowledge among his peers that he’d get lost in his own office were it not for his beautiful wife/business manager. Tall and willowy, with long dark brown hair and intense eyes, she could have taught something to her younger brother about perp sweating.  
  
One glance had been enough to get Souji -- cool, confident, god-killing Souji -- to nearly wet himself.  
  
The situation, at first glance, had probably seemed distressing. She could only imagine what the Setas had thought when they saw a small, naked, teenage girl who looked like she had been savagely beaten -- with broken arms, a huge bruise on her thigh, and fresh bruises all along her neck and breasts _(thank you, Souji, for those love bites...)_ \-- blindfolded, tied to a chair, odd-looking wires on and in her, and who was begging to be fucked.   
  
It must have taken Souji all of his courage and expressive powers to convince his mother that he had not, in fact, decided to become a rapist and/or serial killer. She responded by hurling invectives at the top of her lungs at her son in his bedroom with a voice she usually reserved for stalled contract negotiations, like the one that had caused her husband and her to return home weeks before schedule.  
  
It was an impressive performance, having not diminished in volume or intensity for over 20 minutes -- casting aspersions on Souji’s numerous innate character failings, cursing the heavens for being burdened with such a terrible son, threatening to get Ryotaro to lock him up behind bars forever, rhetorically questioning what sort of sick monster torments helpless, injured young women for sexual amusement -- though it seemed like she was wrapping up.  
  
“Now you go out there and you _beg_ that girl for forgiveness! If you’re very, _very_ lucky, she won’t _castrate_ you on the _spot!_ And if _she_ doesn’t do it, _I will!_ Now _march!_ ”  
  
His bedroom door slid open to reveal a very pale, very contrite, very chastened Souji Seta, windswept hair a little bit whiter than before, trailed by a furious apparition.  
  
“Now _kneel!_ ”  
  
He instantly dropped to his knees in front of her, his eyes locked on the floor.  
  
“Now _bow!_ ”  
  
He immediately snapped down into a low _dogeza_ , forehead knocking bruisingly loudly on the floor, and it remained there as if nailed down.  
  
“Now _beg!_ ”  
  
“This person has most shamefully wronged Shirogane-sama and this person most sincerely apologizes to Shirogane-sama for his most inappropriate behavior. This person most humbly begs for Shirogane-sama’s forgiveness, of which he is not worthy.”  
  
“Hmph. I thought I raised my boy to be able to at least beg better than _that_ pitiful display.” Junko’s frosty glare melted as she sat on the Nelson marshmallow sofa and began to speak with her. “Shirogane-san, please accept our most profound apologies for my foolish son’s depravity. You do not need to forgive him -- I wouldn’t. And please rest assured, he will be punished most severely for this.”  
  
“S-Seta-san, there is no need for you to apologize... I apologize for my own appalling behavior in your home. But, if I could make a request...”  
  
“Certainly, Shirogane-san, anything you ask. That is the very least we can do for you.”  
  
“Would you allow me to take Souji back to Inaba for the rest of the summer and administer punishment as I see fit?”  
  
“Hmm...” A smile spread across Junko’s face. “I think that would be an excellent idea. Don’t you think so, Minoru?”  
  
“Yes, dear.”  
  
 _“Souji!”_  
  
He flinched, even as he was still painfully bent over in supplication; modern architecture was not designed to be knee- or forehead-friendly. “Y-Yes, Mother?”  
  
“You are to do anything and everything Shirogane-san asks of you, do you hear?”  
  
“Yes, Mother.”  
  
“Shirogane-san, please take care of Souji.” Junko winked at her.  
  
“Thank you, Seta-san. I will. Um, may I make one more request?”  
  
“Of course, Shirogane-san.”  
  
“I don’t wish to be rude, Seta-san, but could Souji and I have privacy for perhaps one hour?” She was fidgeting, and had been unable to stop for quite some time. “We have some unfinished--”  
  
“Ah, say no more. Come on, Minoru. There are some affairs we need to settle at the office, anyway.”  
  
“Yes, dear.”  
  
With that, the Setas left the apartment. She looked down and addressed him directly.  
  
“Mommy’s going to take _good_ care of you, Sou-chan~!”  
  
Souji dared to tilt his head to look up at her, so she gave him a diabolical grin.  
  
It was going to be a fun few weeks.  
  
###


	7. Omake

He worked very, very hard to earn Naoto’s forgiveness the rest of that summer, but he honestly didn’t mind at all.  
  
Sou-chan rather enjoyed the ingeniously creative and shockingly evil punishments Mommy had forced on him.  
  
Though she had mostly made Sou-chan punish himself, Mommy surprisingly had asked Auntie Ai for some help once in a while, since she needed an extra pair of hands while hers were still in casts. Auntie had some punishment suggestions, too, but Mommy found most of them too tame. By the end the summer, the two of them had become _dangerously_ good friends.  
  
His balls and ass and feet ached when he returned to school in the fall.  
  
He chalked it up as a learning experience, preparation for married life.  
  
Naoto’s shocking attire and behavior at their first meeting might have given other parents the wrong impression, but the Setas were not known for being squeamish.  
  
Mother had taken a real shine to Naoto, establishing an immediate rapport and singing her praises. Dad was less overtly effusive, but always smiled warmly and proudly whenever she was brought up in conversation.  
  
As they got to know her better and better over the following months, they both told him, “Son, you’re not going to find another girl quite like Naoto. Hold onto her.”  
  
He intended to.  
  
Now all he had to do was to think of the right time and a romantic way to give Naoto the ring he found himself instinctively buying that fateful day before his parents had surprised them...  
  
###


End file.
